Deeper
by JolieBrunette
Summary: Rogue decides to gain control of her powers and undertakes a journey into her own mind, accompanied by both Gambit and the White Queen. [Warnings: sex, mature themes]
1. Chapter 1

**PROLOGUE**

"The splendid discontent of God With Chaos, made the world; And from the discontent of man The world's best progress springs"  
- Edna Wheeler Wilcox

* * *

On silk sheets from Paris, Remy found new ways of making love to her. 

His mouth searched out her breasts and kissed them, tongue caressing each small, pink nipple until they grew hard. He could feel her heart beating against his cheek, quick as desire. His hand slid down the smooth plane of her belly, traced the ridges of her hips, smoothed the insides of her thighs. Her legs parted to his touch and he stroked his fingers gently between them, light, feathery touches where her two lips met. He could feel the crisp softness of her hair through the silk. Her body arched against him, and she breathed his name.

Taking his head from her breasts, he kissed his way down her stomach, down to the heat and wetness between her thighs. She tasted of salt and sex. With his tongue, he began to write words of love on her most secret parts. She sighed his name over and over again, thighs tightening around him, pressing him harder against her. He matched her urgency, increasing his rhythm, going faster and deeper, until she called out and wrapped her legs around him.

For one molten moment, it did not matter that there was still silk between them.

* * *

On silk sheets from Paris, Rogue found new ways of making love to him. 

Her gloved hands slid down the hard muscle of chest, traced the line of his pubic hair, impatiently tugged off his black boxers. Beneath them, he was already hard. Reaching for the small, foil packet on the nightstand, she ripped it open and took out the condom inside. With deliberate slowness, she pinched the end of the rubber and began to unroll it inch by inch over his cock. He drew in his breath at her touch.

With a challenging smile for him, she bent down and licked his shaft from root to tip, before taking him into her mouth. She tasted strawberries, latex. She stroked his penis with her tongue, scraped it lightly with her teeth, dropped kisses along its length. His breath came faster and faster until he cried out her name and she felt him climax.

For one electric moment, it did not matter that they could not touch.

* * *

Afterwards, Rogue lay with Remy on sheets warm and damp from their lovemaking. His beautiful head was pillowed on her breasts, his eyes shut, a slight smile on his lips. His long, lean body lay slantwise over the single beds that they had pushed together a few hours previously. He looked peaceful, contented, like a man who had found everything he wanted and could rest at last. 

Watching him sleep,she could almost pretend that she was happy too, although she knew deep down that she wasn't.

For a few brief, beautiful months in Valle Soleada, she had known what it was like to lead a normal life, an experience made all the more wonderful by the fact that it had never been normal for her. She had gone to bed with the man she loved every night and woken up with him beside her every morning.

In between, there had been all the mundane activities of a life spent together.

Her trying to cook him pancakes and getting most of them stuck to the ceiling.

His kissing her whenever he handed her the milk or the sugar.

Her telling him about the rude customer who had refused to pay for the work he did.

His recounting the story of a businessman with a taste for paedophilia that he had just turned over to the police.

Her restoring a vintage Harley in their back garden.

His teaching her how to surf and laughing whenever she fell off the board.

Her reading poetry to him on the beach over a glass of wine.

His convincing her to make love in the breaking waves and discovering that wet sand chafed if you weren't in the movies.

Tears stung her eyes, and she blinked them away fiercely. She had no-one to blame for her current situation but herself. It had been her choice to give up that life. Like the good girl she had always been, she had followed the path of duty instead of desire, and it had brought her straight back here.

"You okay, sha?" Remy opened one crimson eye to look at her, a concerned expression on his face.

"Y'know, I don't think I am," she said, wanting to be honest with him, "God, Rem, I don't know how to put this, because it's going to sound selfish however I say it. It's just ... what we've got is wonderful, but it's not what we had back in Valle Soleada. It's not enough any more. We both know that."

"P'rhaps," he admitted slowly, propping himself up on his elbow, "Mais, if it's all I can have with you, it's enough for me."

"Maybe it isn't all we can have," she bit her lip, paused, "Long time ago, the Prof told me that he thought my problems with control were psychological and that he could help me through them. I never had the guts to take him up on his offer. I think it's past time I did."

"Anything I can do to help, beb?"

"Yeah, I...I want you to come with me, Rem. Inside my head, I mean. You don't have to say yes. I'd understand if you didn't. It's a big thing to ask, I know. I've been inside my share of people's heads and it isn't always pretty..."

"I'd be honoured," Gambit said with an almost quaint formality, and then grinned at her, "Only fair seeing how often you've been in my head."

"You counting dirty dreams in that, darlin'?" Rogue smiled back at him.

"Had too many of those to count."

She laughed and pulled him into his arms, silk sheets tangling around her, making the movement more clumsy than she would have liked. He snuggled into her side and wrapped his own arms around her waist.

"If this works, maybe we can make some of my dreams come true, neh?"

"Good night, Cajun," she said firmly.

"Good night, beb."

* * *

**Disclaimer/Author's Notes:**

All characters are the property of Marvel Comics, although they have yet to impress me that they know how to write them. I am not making a profit from this work.

Ihope thischapter isn't too explicit.I'm not familiar with the FictionRatings system. However, I would rateit at about NC-17 and therefore equivalent to an M.

That said, future chapters won't have anysex, but will deal with other mature themes that I find more disturbing and unsettling than consensualsex between two adults.


	2. Meeting the Therapist

Chapter One

"Meeting The Therapist"

* * *

"Sex is like air; it's not important unless you aren't getting any."

* * *

"The abyssmal ignorance of our students is beginning to depress me. The Marinas trench would seem shallow by comparison," Emma remarked to Scott, stirring her Darjeeling tea with a spoon. They were sitting together in a corner of her study where the morning light poured in through the bay windows and made everything golden. In the background, the ethereal, haunting tones of Mozart's Adagio in C Minor for Glass Harmonica rose and fell.

Emma took a cautious sip from the cup and nodded in approval at the sweet, slightly fruity taste, "An excellent harvest."

"I take it that the economics papers weren't good," Scott said wryly.

"That would be an understatement. They don't seem to be able to grasp the simplest principles of macroeconomic policy as they apply to the early Genoshan economy and its mutates."

"Well, I'm sure it's nothing to do with their teacher," Scott smiled, stroking her cheek. His fingertips were rough against her skin.

Putting her teacup aside, Emma leaned forward to kiss him on the lips. He responded eagerly, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her closer. His mouth was warm and hungry against hers, a kiss as fierce and violent as possession. She nipped gently at his bottom lip, and the coppery taste of his blood filled her mouth like late Darjeeling tea. Desire flamed within her, and . . . .

A knock sounded at the door. The couple broke apart, breathless. Scott wiped his mouth guiltily with the back of his hand, as if aware that he had broken yet another taboo and enjoyed it. He looked at the red smear of blood against his skin for a moment and then scrubbed it clean against his jeans. Emma merely smiled and licked her lips. She did not understand why people were so ashamed of pleasure that they made so many petty rules to prevent themselves from experiencing it in all its forms.

"Come in," she said, realising they had left their guest waiting for too long.

The door opened a fraction and Rogue stepped into the room. Emma suppressed a wince at how the girl looked. She was wearing an old pair of jeans, faded grey-blue with age, worn white at the knees, and a too-large Saints' sweatshirt that she had obviously taken from Gambit's closet. Her hair was scraped back into a loose braid, and her face was innocent of make-up. Emma mentally scheduled some girl-talk with her, in which she intended to educate her about the straying eyes of men in general and Remy LeBeau in particular.

"Hey, guys. Hope I'm not disturbing anything."

"Of course not. What can we do for you, darling?"

Rogue shifted her weight from one foot to the other, wrapped her arms around herself. Emma could feel the nervousness radiating off her, a low, nauseous buzz on the edge of awareness. Finally, she said, "I want you to take me inside my head and find out why I've got this block when it comes to my powers. I want to . . . no, I need to get control over them now."

"Need," Emma murmured, sipping at her tea, "What an interesting choice of words."

"Yeah, it is. Is Remy making you do this?" Scott asked, his voice concerned.

"No, I'm making me do it," Rogue replied, "Back in Valle Soleada, I knew what it was like to have a normal life. Hell, more than that – a good life. Maybe I can't have all of that again, but I need to have part of it."

"You miss sex," Emma said sympathetically. She could not imagine what it would be like to live without knowing the heavy weight of a body on top of her own, the silk and warmth of naked skin, the sublime ecstasy of orgasm.

"That ain't the problem," Rogue flushed, "It's all the rest. Kissing him without having to go to that damn Z'noxx chamber, sleeping in his arms, being able to have kids with him one day. Everything y'all take for granted."

Emma looked at her in pity. Did she really believe that Gambit shared her romantic dreams, her domestic desires? When she had trained as a sex therapist, she had learnt about men like him. Men who were so incapable of commitment that they pursued women they could never have. Men who fell in love with movie stars and digital fantasies and other people's wives. Men who fell out of love the instant that, by some miracle or twist of fate, the unattainable became attainable. If Rogue gained control of her powers, she was certain to lose the man she loved.

"Are you sure this is what you want, darling? It could have consequences you don't expect."

"I'm sure," Rogue replied, and there was no doubt in her voice.

Emma nodded, realising further argument would be futile, "In that case, I shall see you tomorrow for our first session."

* * *

For such a brief one, this chapter took me a great deal of time to write. I kept writing parts that were perfectly fine by themselves, but didn't work in the overall scheme of the chapter. It might be because, although I've read all of Morrison's X-Men,it took me a while to work out what he was trying to do withScott and Emma. Although I'd prefer to write more before posting, the nature of serialised fiction is such that it is best to post on a regular basis before the readers forget about the story.


End file.
